De Wilton's History.
'Forget we that disastrous day,
When senseless in the lists I lay. 170
Thence dragg'd,--but how I cannot know,
For sense and recollection fled,-
I found me on a pallet low,
Within my ancient beadsman's shed.
Austin,--remember'st thou, my Clare, 175
How thou didst blush, when the old man,
When first our infant love began,
Said we would make a matchless pair?--
Menials, and friends, and kinsmen fled
From the degraded traitor's bed,-- 180
He only held my burning head,
And tended me for many a day,
While wounds and fever held their sway.
But far more needful was his care,
When sense return'd to wake despair; 185
For I did tear the closing wound,
And dash me frantic on the ground,
If e'er I heard the name of Clare.
At length, to calmer reason brought,
Much by his kind attendance wrought, 190
With him I left my native strand,
And, in a Palmer's weeds array'd
My hated name and form to shade,
I journey'd many a land;
No more a lord of rank and birth, 195
But mingled with the dregs of earth.
Oft Austin for my reason fear'd,
When I would sit, and deeply brood
On dark revenge, and deeds of blood,
Or wild mad schemes uprear'd. 200
My friend at length fell sick, and said,
God would remove him soon:
And, while upon his dying bed,
He begg'd of me a boon--
If e'er my deadliest enemy 205
Beneath my brand should conquer'd lie,
Even then my mercy should awake,
And spare his life for Austin's sake.